Through My Life
by Midnight and Magic
Summary: I was found and kept like a puppy. Now, John Winston Lennon is my legal father and Paul sometimes likes to get in the way. George is a pain and Ringo spoils me rotten. Cynthia tries, she really does and Julian...he's too cute sometimes. I can't live without them but sometimes I wish I could take a break.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note (please read): Lately I have been interested in reading Beatle fanfiction and one has been bothering me constantly. It does wrap around an OC. I'm going to try and make this fanfic as realistic as possible. Meaning, she sounds real. I might not go historically by dates but I'll try to get in many important things. I think the only wife I'll really include is Cynthia maybe Pattie…I really don't know! The first few chapters start roughly a year after. I tried to start it from when they did find her but everything came out disappointing. D; so, please enjoy! Review. ;D**

**I'm really just writing this for myself but if you guys like it…YAYY! Haha**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Beatles. This story is for pure fun and interest. I mean no harm in writing this. **

Chapter One

By: Hiaho

"I'm your father," he says, twisting and fiddling with his wedding band. My eyes fix on the gold band and I nod slightly in a trance; everything being quite blurry.

"Yeah," I breathe. My body ghostly got up and sat next to him. He was nearly but only ten years older than I. Words dangled in my throat and the world around me is nothing but fuzziness and confusion. "What now?" Is the only thing I can force out and hearing them were like biting into something bitter.

Many people go through these situations and all are happy. They celebrate with joy and cry tears. We, him and I, we just sit there dazed by everything around us.

"How does your name sound now?" I weakly smile before saying it for the first time out loud; the person that had said it before now was the old judge.

"Alexandra Lennon," I say, unsure. We both stare at the blank white wall. It isn't interesting one bit but to us, we stare at it as if it was booming the rainbow. "What do you think?"

"Lovely," he says, looking at me. I can see his eyes studying me from the corner of my own. "Alexandra John Lennon."

"John?" I ask as more spiteful than I'd hope for. I face him and we lock eyes. He took my small, soft hands in his much larger callused ones. His face was soft but I could see through that small smirk and friendly eyes. He was just as worried as me.

When a woman gets pregnant, they have a whole nine months to prepare. When a married couple wants to adopt, they have years to prepare if they want. John and I, we're different. He sort of just told me two days ago and I asked when he decided that, his response was a shrugged shoulder.

It really did surprise me because it was Paul. Paul was the one that decided a girl my age of fifteen; fourteen then, shouldn't be sleeping on a bench. Especially a bench outside a pub. The only reason why I chose there was because it was warm. Every time the door opened, I'd get a wind of warm air. Also, the bar tender always gave me old newspapers.

It was the eighth time they've came to pub and George was convinced I was stalking them. Paul smiled at me and asked me if I was. I shook my head and looked down at my feet. He reached in his pocket and gave me money. It wasn't much but it was something. I think I bought a new pair of socks with it.

It was a few times after that, that Paul brought me to his place. I didn't want to go. All I did was scream. I was scared; four men dragging you away. I think I even punched George in the butt. He was carrying me. It didn't faze him, though. I don't remember much about that night after that, mostly because Ringo accidently slammed my head while closing the car door.

The next morning was different. Paul made me feel safe and said he'll let me stay a week. I didn't talk much at all. My time was spent sitting in the guest room holding my knees and rocking back and forth.

It was also Paul that pointed out a very good point. If they sent me back on my way outside, they'll be putting me back into my problem.

If anyone were to adopt me, I would think it to be Paul. John was very random about it. I've visited him many times but weirdly, I always went back to Paul's.

"I'll try my best," he says, his warm hand caressing my cheek. "But you have to try for me, too." The heart beneath my chest can't help but to pound in a harsh way. I can't help but to squeeze his hand in mine. "Cynthia says you can have the room across from Julian's."

I remember her also saying she was going to paint it pink with a white trim but I thought she was talking about my room in Paul's place. It all makes sense now. Pink was never my favorite color. I'd always prefer reds and greens but Cynthia's so sweet to me. I could never tell her. I wouldn't put a burden on her or John; they're giving me an official home and I shouldn't be anything but a person filled with glee. I should never be spiteful.

"Do I call you dad?" I ask, swallowing hard against my dry throat. He simply shrugs.

"Only when you're ready," he whispers.

"I love you," I say, unsure of the words I'm speaking. He looks at me and his eyes, they haven't changed once. It's the same look. A smile spreads across my face and I fall into his chest. He cradles me; chest banging against my ear like a drum.

"You're lying," he states.

"I don't want to be," I say to convince John. He rubs my back in silence. I swallow my tongue and start to feel my throat close. All of the sudden, I'm mentally gasping for air. "Shouldn't I say that?"

"Only when you're ready."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to the both of you for reviewing! I really appreciate it. **

**This chapter is for you know a bit of Alexandra's personality and it will introduce you to a few other important characters.**

"He just signed it," I tell Grace, grabbing my knee's closely to my chest. I rest my chin on the tips. Grace's eyes went round; her brown marbles almost bulging out.

"Just like that?" She gasped.

Grace was a short girl with straight, long, brown hair like me; mine was a bit thinner and frizzy. She had a round face with a stubby nose that rest below large, round brown eyes. She was also a loud, nosey, boyish girl that chewed with a wide mouth; while I'm quiet, well mannered, and knew my place. My face was the shape of an oval and I had beautiful hazel eyes with long lashes.

I may sound like a bag of pearls and Grace a bag of cow manure but nothing was further than the truth. We both had things of each other we envied.

She was strong willed and I was a weakling. Grace also has full hips and I had nothing. Many girls our age envy her for that. Guys tend to go for girls more if they had a body you can only get outside of school. If it wasn't for her bad table manners at launch, she'd be more experienced with bed business than Marilyn Monroe.

To her, I have a nice bum but it is all lies. I find it completely flat. My blue school skirt looks like a garbage bag over a body. Grace also says I have a nice, soft voice. Not a singing voice like Paul or George but a speaking voice. You would have to be drunk and hit your head to think I can sing.

"Just like that," I repeat her words into fact. She giggles toothily and I think she also has a beautiful smile. I force a giggle because in all seriousness, I am not in the mood to giggle. The mood I am in is _tea mood_. I'd prefer to be downstairs in front of our fire and cuddle with a soft blanket. Julian and I haven't played in awhile.

He's only a baby but man he is the most entertaining person I know.

"Do you know what that means?"I force another smile and nod. She pushes a strand of hair behind my ear and her smile turns softer. "You and I can stay best friends." It's true, it's January 2nd and I've only known her since September 5th, but there's a connection between us that will never be broken.

Grace and I met when I started school. Cynthia had won the battle to enroll me in school despite the Fab Four's pleads. John's excuse was, "She'd hardly be there anyway!" while Paul's was, "Everyone will find out! You can't just put her in School. What if someone hurts her?"

George was neutral about the whole idea. He sat in the corner eating an apple. Ringo was really upset because he wanted to hire a tutor. I, personally, think they all had visions for me.

Anyway, it had been before lunch break and I needed to organize my locker and there was Grace. She had been punching and kicking her locker. The words, "You stupid twat of a locker," had flown out of her mouth like spitfire. It wasn't opening because it was a 'stupid twat' but because it was my locker. Grace had gotten the numbers mixed. Hers was 1107 and mine was 1108.

I slightly tapped her shoulder and she whipped back to me with frizzy bangs covering her eyes. I told her it was my locker and she laughed.

After that school day, I didn't go home with just one friend but four; Grace, Jeremy, Kevin, and Anya.

Jeremy is a young looking boy with blonde hair. He's about five' six and walks with dragging feet. His eyes are the color of a clear sky. Jeremy is just like Grace and often has eating competitions with her at lunch. You could say he's the class clown. He has this thing where he passes wind and see's how loud it is on the surface he's sitting on. Grace laughs loudly while Kevin and Anya cover their noses. I simply wave the air around me and keep my laughs low.

Kevin, despite being best friends with Jeremy since grade school, is the complete opposite. He's quiet and has one of the best averages in the class. I think he is number eight or nine. Kevin's manners are always well and he dresses neatly everywhere he goes. He's also something of a looker while Jeremy is just an average fifteen year old boy. Kevin has beautiful dark skin and soft black hair. He's about George's height. The first time I met him, he moved his seat for I could sit near the heater during lunch. He also bought me a new hat for Christmas but Paul misplaced it.

Anya is just like her twin brother, Kevin, in every way. While I and Grace turned to be amazing friends, Anya and I have a special relationship. Grace is amazing, really, but she also has a big mouth to fit her ears. I tell Anya anything and I've only know her for a little while. Cynthia yells at me because I envy Anya's sexy, long legs. They're so toned. Football, she says. Anya is amazing at it and wishes to play on the school team like her brother. As girls, we aren't allowed to join the sport teams. The only teams for us are dance, tennis, and gymnastics. They aren't considered sports, either. To have a girl on a sports team is disgusting to many. It's like having a son that doesn't know how to catch or throw.

John really likes Jeremy but Paul thinks he's disgusting. Of course Paul doesn't dislike him, just thinks he's disgusting. Ringo and George don't really care. They all love Grace but George. George finds her annoying and constantly has to bite back his tongue. They all really enjoy Kevin and Anya. Even to the point they offered Anya to come to America with us at the end of the month. Her mother shot that down before the sentence even left her mouth.

While Jeremy's family is normal except his mother is way too smothering of her two sons, Grace's is a circus. Her two younger brothers climb up and on everything. When you walk in, they bite at legs like dogs. Her mother and father are that crazy couple that's always happy and the older brother's are bums. One brother, he has a two year old daughter and a girl that dresses like a whore. That's what Brian told me. The other brother is a couch potato that lives with his eyes glued to the T.V screen. Anya and Kevin's parents are strict and you always have to say Mr. and Mrs. Martinez. Grace's parents try to act young so they make you call them Claudia and Jon.

Since John and Cynthia are very young, they're bright and fun but Mr. and Mrs. Martinez are old and boring. The only good thing about going to their house is I get to eat good food. Cynthia can't cook to save her life and John…can you really picture John cooking dinner? I laugh to that. I tried to cook dinner once but I guess I adapted the new Lennon tradition of horrible cooks.

My group of friends are lovely mostly because I've never had any before. I guess I could count the others but it's difficult. George acts like a brother and Paul gives me awkward talks. Ringo is my shoulder to rest and cry on. John is weird. He sort of flows with different personalities; sometimes he yells at me and others he holds me. He even ignores me sometimes. I think I rather him yell at me because at least he knows I'm there.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you all my reviewers! **

**Do you think I can have two more this time? **** Sorry, sometimes I can John's personality and sometimes I can't. Sorry for any mistakes. I'll go back and fix them. **

**Narrative POV**

John Lennon snaps shut his book and tosses it on the table as a knock on the door rings throughout the house. He sighs, hiding his glasses in his back pocket, walking to the door. He opens it and smirks wickedly at the boy standing there.

"Hi!" He greets. "Is-"

"Kevin," John says out loud, interrupting the boy. John leans on the door frame, eyeing the boy with his smirk still plastered on his face. "Kevin, Kevin, Kevin," he repeats three times. Kevin Martinez nods, gulping slightly.

"Yes, is-"

"What is in the box?" John interrupts the poor boy again, grabbing the brown box from his hands. "I hear something!" He laughs, shaking it. "Is it a gift? But for who?" He teases. Kevin's cheeks go red and he starts to twitch. John always teased him even since he gave Alexandra the knitted hat for Christmas.

"Is Alexandra here?" Kevin questions fast. John pushes himself from the frame and points to the spiral stairwell.

"She's upstairs in her room!" He smiles and Kevin starts to walk but John stops him. "Well don't go up there you horny boy! God!" He teases, walking a few steps up the stairwell. Kevin looks at his feet shyly and embarrassed. Every time he comes over, he'd hope Cynthia would open the door because when John did…it was hell.

"The gifts from Anya!" He protested, smiling cheeky. "She's sick today!" John turns to him and shakes his head.

"Kevin…Kevin…Kevin," he repeats three times again. He turns back his focus upstairs and yells, "You sleeping?" Tiny heels click against the floor and John sighs at a dazzled Cynthia. "Not you!" She mouths an 'oh'.

"I was!" Alexandra whines, walking in her nightgown down the stairs. She didn't even notice Kevin until John made the worst comment ever. John sighs, facing Kevin.

"I just bought that couch!" Alexandra looks at John and then her eyes land on Kevin. Her cheeks warm and they start to turn cherry red.

"Kevin!" She squeals, running back up the stairs. John snorts, grabbing his book again. Kevin awkwardly sits on the leather chair playing with the green ribbon wrapped around the box. His cheeks have had the sensation of lava since John opened his mouth.

"Kevin's here?" Cynthia frowns, walking down the steps with Julian hanging from her arms. "When did he get here?" She smiles at the flustered boy and places Julian in his special baby chair in the living room. He focuses his eys on the ground and makes baby giggles; fist pounding up and down and drool dripping from his bottom lip.

"Cyn," John sighs. "It's mating season, he's probably been on the roof all night making doggy calls!" Kevin looks up wide eyed again.

"Sir, mating season is in the spring," he corrects. Cynthia whacks Johns head and his smirk disappears.

"Hi Kevin!" Alexandra runs down the steps, blue dress flowing behind her and her flats tapping against the marbled floor. Kevin stands out and gives the gift to her. "A gift?" She smiles, her whole face lighting up.

"Would you open the thing?" John rushes. "I've been waiting his twenty minutes! I want to see what's in that!" She pulls the green ribbon and tears the brown wrapping, opening the box. It had been another hat. She smiles back at Kevin and nods.

"Thank you and I'll make sure Paul doesn't lose this one!"

"Please," Kevin smiles, taking the used paper and ribbon. "New York," he starts, "it's colder around this time of the year than it is here! Anya and I thought it would be a nice gift." Cynthia takes the paper and walks to the kitchen.

"That was very nice of you, wasn't it, John?" Cynthia says.

"Very nice," he smirks.

"It's raining cats and dogs out there!" Ringo says, walking in the warm living room.

"Doesn't it always?" Kevin smiles, fixing his jacket. He waves to Alexandra and she waves back. "I have to go. Mama will be wondering where I've been!" He runs out the door and Cyn gave glares of death.

"Mating? Dogs? Roofs? Horny?" She stomps over to him, shaking her head. "That isn't very nice of you, you know?"

"What about mating?" Ringo asks dumbfounded. Alexandra sighs and hugs Ringo.

"I don't know but Kevin replaced my hat!" She giggles, showing Ringo her new hat. Ringo smiles and takes it, putting it on her head and over her eyes.

"Damn! And I didn't think it could get any worse!" George calls, barging through the door. "It's like I took a leak in 'em!" George frowns, patting his black pants.

"Thanks for shutting the door on me!" Paul whines, walking in. George shrugs, taking off his soaked shoes. Alexandra pulls the hat off her head and smiles at Paul. His face brightens up and takes the hat. "You found it?" Alexandra shakes her head.

"Of course not," she smiles. "Kevin got me a new one." As those words came from her mouth George smiled stupidly at her and Paul grinned widely.

"Really?" Paul laughs, looking at John. "Did he wrap it?"

"With a nice little ribbon," he says, still looking at his book.

"Did he now?" George teases. Alexandra shakes her head feeling the warmth come back to her cheeks. George ruffles her hairs. "She's turning red!"

"Green eh?" Ringo smiles. "Just happens to be one of your favorite colors." Alexandra nods, holding the knitted hat with her clammy hands.

"It's from Anya too and Grace gave me sunglasses yesterday!"

"Stop teasing!" Cynthia laughs.

"Any redder, she'll melt," George smiles. "You have a crush!"

"No I don't!" She protests, glaring at him. George nods.

"_Right_."

Cynthia glares at George as she drags Alexandra to the stairwell.

"Go finish getting ready," she whispers and Alexandra nods, running up the stairs. Cynthia grabs Julian and follows her up the stairs leaving the Fab Four to it.

"Did you talk to her?" Ringo smirks. John grumbles, looking up from his book once more.

"You really have to give a talk to them?" Paul nods, taking a seat next to him.

"Well, sure," he says.

"I never had a talk!"

"She's a girl…she's different," Paul points out. "Want me to-"

"No," John says simply. "I will when-"

"I'm going to get an apple," George interrupts, awkwardly walking into the kitchen.

"When she's old?" Ringo states.

"Are you sure you don't want me to do it?" Paul suggests. "You're not really good with-"

"I'll do it…okay? Later…I'll talk to her about them things."

"It can't be that difficult!" Paul smirks.

"Can I have these, too?" George lifts up a bag pretzel sticks. John nods and George smiles with joy.

"She's so innocent that it's-"

"Scary?" Ringo questions, finishing John's sentence.

"I'll do it," Paul nods.

"No, I'll go do it now!"

"Can I have the-"

"George, eat whatever the hell you want!" John snaps, walking up the stairs mumbling swear word and after swear word.

"I only wanted to-"

"George," Paul eyes him.

"Yeah?"

"Shhh."


	4. Chapter 4

**A?N: Hello! I am back with another chapter! Thank you to my two lovely reviewers! :D **

**Warning, I am typing this in the Copy-N-Paste section, excuse any mistakes! :D **

**Can I please get a few reviews? :P Thank you and enjoy!**

_Narrative _

John walks up the stairs, lagging his feet behind him. His stomach twist and churns as he thinks. He has not an idea of what to say. Alexandra was innocent and had no idea of them things. She was small and fragile about everything. As he reaches the top step, a deep breath runs through his limp body. John can hear Cynthia making baby gurgles at Julian in the master bedroom, but like always, Alexandra's bedroom was quiet.

John eyes his twitching hand as he's about to knock; clench, unclench, clench. His knuckles go a snow white, back to a fleshy skin color. His sharp took nags at a piece of his lip. Confrontion...he hated that. John forces himself to knock but the first time passes weakly making hardly any nose. He, himself, could just about hear it. With a clammy forehead, John straightens himself and he knocks with a force.

_Regular_

I sit on my pushy like bed, fiddling with the ball on top of the nicely knitted hat. My calm stomach become a cage of wild butterflies traveling through me like I was a bundle of tree's. While it hurts, the feeling tickles me and I can only help but to kick my legs in excitement. I try not to giggle and keep my calm because a small knock, almost pathetic sound breaks at my door. I swallow harshly and keep my ear open.

It could have been the baby knocking at something but I'm wrong as a much more forceful knock comes over my room.

"Come in?" I question, eyeing my white wooden door. The doorknob goes in a three-sixty and John slowly walks in. I frown because his profile is that of a ghost or if he has seen a ghost. "You alright?" I can his adams apple swallow harshly against his throat. He eyes my hat as he makes me nervous. "John, are you alright?" I repeat, as he sits on my bed. He nods.

"We need to talk about something," he says, sweat dripping from his temple. I go into my draw to get a cloth but he wraps his long fingers around my wrist tightly, My eyes widen as a zap of worry rushes over my body. "You're not in trouble and I'm fine." What has gotten into him? I snatch back my wrist and rub the soreness gently away. "I don't like talking about these things anymore than you do, alright? But Paul, he's nagging me like Cynthia does." I frown because Cynthia doesn't nag him. Mrs. McKay does, my School Principle, on a weekly basis.

When he's home, he'll drive me to school but he always runs over the curb. My first day, we almost hit the nurse. That'd be bad because she's the only nurse and if we hit her, who will help her? Like always, he laughs, and drives away. The school buses get quite angry.

"But Cynthia _doesn't_ nag you," I correct, sweetly. Then my face lights up. "Paul does, though. Many times!" He pops a smirk and nods.

"And that blasted Principle of yours!" I nod, agreeing.

"I was just thinking of that," I mention. We stare at each other. "What did you have to tell me?" I blink my lids and smile. He then frowns.

"PAUL!" He yells quickly, getting up. I bat my eyes in confusion as he rushes up and leaves me.

"Huh?" Cynthia pops her head and eye smiles.

_Narrative_

George sits on the couch munching on something crunchy as he selectively listens to what John is talking about and Ringo bites at his finger. Paul nods a bit cocky.

"She was looking at me with them eyes!" John cries, nervously, rubbing his arms. He looks at the cloudy ash tray filled with half smoked cigarettes. "She was blinking like a cute little deer and smile, giggling!" He whines. "Paul, stop nodding your head and George, your chewing like a starving cow!" Paul freezes with a smoke hanging from his bottom lid, eyes drooping more and George frowns angrily, tossing the bad of crisps to the coffee table. Then he glares at Ringo. Ringo looks up at him blankly and sighs. "I have an issue!" John rolls his eyes as once again, little clicks of heels appear.

"You alright, John?" Cynthia asks, Julian still giggling. Paul smiles, waving her away.

"We got it, Cyn!" Then Cynthia disappears back into the room.

John sighs of relief.

"Just because you have_ issues_, John, doesn't mean I have to listen," says George, going back for the crisps. John glares at him.

"George, who bought those?" He points to the half empty bag. George freezes, looks him in the eyes before sadly putting them down again. He leans back, crossing his arms and legs. John smirks. "As I was saying, she had them cute little eyes and that smile. She's not fifteen, I swear!" Ringo smiles. "I don't like that Kevin!" Then, Ringo frowns.

"He gave her a knitted hat!" He protests.

"Right!" John smiles. "But, have you ever given a girl a gift just to give her a gift?" Ringo rolls his eyes, nodding.

"Yes," he says. John freezes, and looks at George.

"I gave a girl a pair of gloves once," George says, happily. "But that's because I thought she was pretty and I liked her."

"I should of kicked you out when I had a chance!" John says, half-joking. He turns to Paul. "_Have you ever given a gift to a girl just to give her a gift_?"

"Of course!" Paul snorts. "Have _you_?"

"You're right, I gave Cynthia multiple things," he agree's.

"Want me to talk to her?" Paul asks, again. John grumbles.

"No fucking shit, Sherlock." Paul smirks with glee, as he smoothly pushes past the furniture.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Thank you for your reviews, again! XP Sorry, this is a really awkward chapter and I'm glad this part is over! Ha Ha**

"Paul?" I question, hesitantly. He smiles, blocking the door, sitting on my white desk chair. His body rocks back and forth. He's up to something. The way he's acting and the way John was acting earlier makes my senses tingle. He clears his throat and I eye the door. Then, the window. Sub-consciously, I am planning my escape.

I know, Cynthia is in the next room and will come if I scream. I also have pillows. Not that they will hurt if I throw them. I lean on my bed.

"John never did talk to you, did he?" I shake my head.

"I know what this is about, I think," I say, clinging to the hat. "It's just a hat and I aint doing nothing I'm not suppose to! Okay?" I beg for freedom. Grace said this talk is probably the most awkward thing anyone could go through. I don't want to go through it. Anya and Kevin got a book, I want a book. At least with a book I can slam it shut and throw it. I can't shut Paul or throw him. He's too tall and heavy for me. I don't even think I can push him. He laughs, scratching his temple.

Then the worst thing happens, we are joined by Ringo. At least I can push Ringo, he's only five inches taller than I. My hand can also reach his mouth without struggle. He takes the corner of my bed, grabbing a smoke from his shirt pocket.

"Not in my room, it makes me sick!" He sighs and puts it back in.

"Of, course," he grumbles.

Two against one. I'm screwed over and then screwed again. This has to be the worst thing I have ever experience; the agonizing wait for spoken words, the horribly steaming cheeks, the sweaty forehead, and lets not forget nausea coming from my stomach going to my throat.

"Boys, we're different, you know?" Paul states. My eyes go wide. Not...this.

"Paul, Ringo," I start, sighing. "Really, I know," I cry. They have one thing and I have another. It's not rocket science. I mean, I haven't exactly seen one or know how it really works but I'll save their breaths. Paul laughs and waves his arms dismissing my ignorance. I groan innocently.

"What I mean is," he starts then pauses, probably to find what words will work the best. He licks his bottom lip. "To put it nicely, we're sneaky bastards." Ringo gives him a look of disbelief. "We'll say everything and anything, you know?"

"Not us, though!" Ringo protests. "We're good guys, we don't do them things...at all." Paul gives a short laugh and I groan again, falling on to my stomach. I grasp my neck pillow and smother myself from all embarrassment but Ringo lifts me up with his arms and I'm flustered with confusion.

"They'll say sweet things and try to make you feel different, don't believe them! Okay?" Paul says, nicely, swinging his finger at me. He grabs for my hand and I don't drop my confused look. "Don't do anything stupid that you'll regret, okay?" He kisses my flaring temple and Ringo waves good-bye, leaving me in my thoughts but George, he comes in sweaty and dazzled. I look at him and shake my head.

"I al-"

"John says I have to talk to you, too," he says, dazed. He looks at the ceiling. "I think it's some kind of joke and he's probably coming up the stairs to listen. So, don't do anything you wouldn't tell John or Cynthia without wanting to kill yourself. Okay?" He probes my eyes with his own and he's wearing the face of a zombie.

"George?" I question. He sits on my bed, studying his feet. He's shoes are wrecked from the constant raining. Too bad, because they are real leather. Isn't leather suppose to last?

"No stealing, because they'll chop your hand off! Okay?" George says as if he came from one of those crack houses. I nod not sure of what he's getting at. He waves his lanky arm, almost whacking me. I duck slightly for cover. "No kissing because you'll get them sores. You don't like them things, right?" He eyes me.

"I never had one," I laugh, innocently. He's completely wrecked by his own language that it's funny; blushing, sweating, green. "Are you feeling alright?" He gets up with puffy cheeks only to leave me. His walk is like he's only balancing on stubs and he grabs anything for guidence. John peeks his head.

"In other words, keep them legs closed or you'll have an alien looking thing coming out," he laughs. John must have collected himself because now, he looks brand new. He makes a funny disgusted face. "BLAK!"


	6. Part One: Journey To and From America

**A/N: Please READ! So, I want to thank my reviewer! More reviews are welcomed. I just want to say, this is where the official story starts. I mean NO joke in the Buddy Holly part, really. **

**This story really isn't going anywhere, I have such horrible writers block! Shake my head.**

Part One: Journey to America

_Rattle. Bump. Shake. Rattle_. That is all I have felt for the last few hours and there is more to come. As I sit here, nails digging into my stocking covered legs, everyone else seems dandy. Dandy is not used lightly. I am literally the only one freaking out. My breathing is off and obviously my stomach is like I drank gasoline.

George chews his mint gum, flipping through some magazine. How can he read? It's like we are in a bouncy house so many thousand feet in the air. John tells me it is normal. I guess believing him is way better then screaming for my dear life. I daze my eyes to the rounded window. Looking down feels like hell.

"If this crashes, will we die?" I ask stupidly. Paul sighs. Cynthia gives me a sympathetic look.

"John?" She starts. "Will we?"

"Will we what?" He asks, looking at her blankly, blinking lightly. She nods.

"Die?" His face drops.

"No, Cynthia, we'll walk out of the broken plane like brand fucking spanking new. Your hair won't even mess." If looks could kill, Cynthia would have burned holes in his forehead and not because he gave a little attitude but because she has to fix her once perfect bangs. I turn back to Paul.

"We're going to die, aren't we?" I cry. Paul looks at me like I am insane and then I mention the worst thing of all. "We're going; we're going down just like Buddy Holly!" His eyes go wide and shushes me.

"Don't you say that!" He whines and calls for Ringo. Ringo slides into the seat next to me and gives me a piece of gum. George says it helps the constant popping. My piece is getting horribly stale and making my mouth feel funny. To put it in to truth, it went stale two hours ago. I spit the use to be pink, sticky goo in the new pieces wrapper and put the new piece in my mouth.

"Thank you," I say. Ringo leans back in the chair. I despise him right now. "Ringo, how are you so calm?" I cry. Do you know how you are trying to be calm and you kind of are but you know one more jolt and you are done for? That might not make a whole lot of sense but it does for me. I do what he's doing and take deep breaths. I eye him from the corner of my own; his eyes are close. I close mine, too.

"Alexandra, if we die, it's all of us together so it's not that scary!" John says. "You have all of us-"

"Shut up," George grumbles. John pouts.

"Are you scared, too, George?" He mocks. George shoves another piece of gum onto his chapped lip mouth and makes a face before sitting back, relaxing. John huffs and stares at me. I stare at him.

Both of us don't have a purpose for this, but our eyes connect. His face is like a white sheet of paper, blank of anything and I can tell mine is the same. My body shifts slightly in my seat. Cynthia blocks Johns view and the corners of my lips tug downward.

"John, you alright?" Cynthia delicately pushes a sandy strand of hair out of his eye and John regains focus. With nod, he's right back at focusing on the soft back side of the seat in front of him. I mimic him. The seat isn't interesting at all.

John thinks a lot and I never know about what. A blank wall and his eyes would be attached to it like it was the most amazing thing ever. He has a world, I bet. In life, in reality, it can get boring. We all have a world and a different life we'd want to visit. My world is what it should have been. Not this. Not right here. A life where things didn't happen like that had.

It's really strange. Paul never asks and George seems to go with the flow while John doesn't want to be bothered. Ringo doesn't stand anywhere. My past life is like the Walt Disney volt minus the every seven year thing. It's locked in me and it'll never calm out. It's like a repressed memory? Some of it I don't even know but yet I feel.

Sometimes when John gets mad, my mind plays games. It turns him into someone while he is the same. It is an awkward thing. One eye and part of my brain make him out to be the very John Lennon I see every day but the other part is much worse. Even if John isn't throwing stuff, I get a flash of glass smashing and blood splattering. I don't know why and part of me is scared to.

I try not to think about and I blame Anya. She gave me a book to read about the subconscious mind and how important it is. How it is thinking something and we can't fully know what it is. We dream it. She also says it kind of reveals itself.

So, what ever happened to me, it's in there. There's something that they didn't tell me.

I shake myself and smile at Paul trying to figure out when and how he moved next to me so fast.

"Do you want a piece of candy?" He hands me and a piece of hard candy. I take it but don't eat it. I lock it in my hands as if someone's trying to take it from me. A voice squeaks out of my dry mouth.

"Thank you."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you very much for your review! :D Here is Chapter Seven.**

**Please Read, Enjoy, and Review. I might change the person because I feel I cannot write well in this one.**

**I just want to point out, it may seem that Alexandra or I, the author bashes on Cynthia. We're really not. Cynthia is just so outgoing and girly compared to her and it makes my character feel uneasy sometimes.**

**Cynthia next to Linda, is my favorite wife.**

I drop my heavy suitcase on the carpeted, hotel floor. The bell boy stands behind me and I know he's mad or slightly upset. My cheeks tense and I turn to him. His eyes look sad but I know he's mad that he isn't getting a tip. I stick my cold hand in my pocket and pull out a piece of gum.

"Thanks," he grumbles.

"I really am sorry; I am just very dazzled by everything!" He glares at the gum as I speak. Poor boy. I point to the lousy piece. "That is all I got. If I had some money, I would really give it to you." I giggle stupidly. "Even thought I carried my bag," I trail on. "I'm just so surprised by everything I had not an idea of what I was doing," I say, flopping on the comfy mattress. I let out a loud moan. "This is very nice!" He sighs out of boredom. I lean up and tilt my frizzy haired head. "Are you bored?" He nods down his chin.

"I must get going, Miss," he waves his white gloved hand. "Dial nine if you need anything!" A smile appears then disappears.

This hotel room is very plain compared to home. I almost miss my white and pink trimmed walls. My pointer finger caresses the smooth white surface. The wall doesn't even feel the same. On the bedside is a nice little wooden night stand with a simple lamp. My lamp is in the shape of a pink gummy bear. You press the top of the head to turn it on. My finger moves to the wood from the wall. This wood, though, is much nicer than my bedroom set. Pure cherry wood. I believe Cherry Wood is a more expensive type and I also believe my set is fake wood. I grin and open it to only find a Bible and menu. Room service?

"Don't even!" I jump, clutching my chest. I turn to John as he makes his way to the corner of my bed. I furrow my eyes.

"Why?"

"Food bar and room service is _off limits_! Understand?" He eyes me. I frown, nodding. I had my eyes on that bag of American crisps placed on top of that mini fridge. He 'fixes' my hair. "It costs money!"

"We have money!"

"No, I have money!" He corrects. Another frown grows to my lips. He smirks. "I simply buy what I need and what is ever left you, I throw to you."

"Throw to me? I'm not a dog!" I whine. I pout and rub my hungry stomach. I never complain or misbehave, so instantly I look up at him and nod. "I will not order room service nor eat out of that fridge!" He pats my head like a dog owner and leaves.

"Stay, Lassie!" He jokes from the hallway.

"Are you hungry, Love?" Ringo pokes his head in and my stomach answers before my mouth even opens. He dingles a bag of gummy bears in the air and I rush to get them. Pauls shakes his head.

"She needs to eat supper, not candy!" Ringo's face drops as does the bag of candy.

"Can we go eat then, Paul?" George asks, with a jelly belly on his lower lip. He scoops it with his tongue and chews harshly. "I'm hungry and tomorrow we got a busy day!" Air splashes the two as I throw my coat back on. Paul narrows his eyes.

John walks in, ready in gear to go out in the bitter New York City cold.

"I am really hungry!" I agree, forcing George to take my hand. I'm quite unsteady in this heeled boots. John sighs.

"Let's go get something, Alex," he orders, grabbing my hand. George follows but John stops. I pout again. He gives a tiny glare. "Can't we ever do anything without the three of you?" He snaps and Paul gives a look of flabbergast. Ringo, once again, lets his face drop.

"What do you suppose we eat?" A grumpy George ask.

"Shit," John says, using a witty comeback.

Once stuck in the elevator, I feel the air tense. He leans against the back, looking at the ceiling. John doesn't bother to say a word to me.

"Where are we going?" His eyes slant and shoulders shrug slightly.

"Someplace." The answer is short and simple. _Someplace_.

"Just me and you?" I smirk, grasping his hand again. My fragile body lays on his side.

"Is that an issue?" He groans.

"Never! It is a nice turn of events, you know?" I state, thinking. "I don't think we've ever ate out by ourselves. I sort of like the idea. Usually Cynthia chats the whole time and you nod while Julian sort of…spits his food out."

"And where does that leave you?" He snorts.

"To my food!" I giggle, stepping out of the fully stopped and open elevator. But, we pause. John, looks down at me.

"Do you think I am arrogant?" He asks me. Random in deed. With my index finger lingering on my chin, I think.

"Sometimes, you know?" I agree, continuing to walk. My leather boots click with the marbled floor and then almost slip with the wetness. It is still snowing like crazy. The cold is horrendous. Then, I remember, Kevin said Florida is hot. I might even get sunburn.

"Sometimes?" He spits. I nod.

"But that is just who you are." I state and then finish. "We are who we are for many reasons." I hear him repeat my saying and he smiles in agreement. "Take Cynthia for an example," I start, fixing my hat for the crisp cold won't make them sting. "She grew up in a pretty decent home. That makes her the way she is. We are where we come from just like we are what we eat."

"Sometimes, Alexandra," John swallows, pausing. "You're weird. I can't exactly put my finger on how but you are. You say we are where we come from, but you're not!" His eyes bore at me. His height and my height differ a lot.

"What am I?"

"You're so scared and shy! Sheltered, almost," he points out. His tongue sweeps across his frosty looking lips. "You're-"

"Me. I'm me, John," I say. "This is who I am. But, if we are going to play this game? Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm," he responds, warming his bare hands.

"Do you have my birth certificate? Like, my real one?"

"Why does it matter?" He takes a turn and we're hit with warm air. "Two, please?" His says the Hostess. It isn't anything fancy but nothing casual either. When we take our seats.

"Why?" He grins, looking over the menu. A frown tugs on my lips. "Does it really matter? You know everything, anyway!"

"I know," I whine. "I just really want to see it."

"All it states is your name and date! I have it back at the hotel; we needed it to let you on board the plane. George was shocked that I had it…."

"Do you have anything _else_? Did _they_ give you anything?"

"Why would your parents give me anything?"

"Not them…_they_?" He freezes and slaps his menu closed before walking away.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Here is chapter 8!**

**Do you think I could have two reviews this time? I really want to know what you guys think!**

**Please, please review!**

**I take any suggestions!**

"John, calm down," Ringo says through the phone. John clenches the phone and knits his eyes as he thinks. Moments ago Alexandra really freaked him out. It is bad, really bad…to John. "Do you want me to get Paul-"

"No!" John snaps, quickly. He didn't want Paul anywhere near this situation. "Ringo, you have to help me!" He spoke in a low but urgent whisper. Ringo took a long pause and sighs.

"Okay, how about Cynthia, do you want to talk her?"

"No, I don't want to talk to her!"

Back at the table Alexandra sips at her water and plays with her pasta. John still has not ordered but the hungry girl couldn't wait another minute. When he had left, she felt a big chill run down her spine. What could be so urgent? She starts to feel sad as that maybe John wasn't feel so well.

"Is he alright?" The waiter asks, glooming over her. Alexandra looks up and smiles.

"I think he just had something urgent, he'll be right back," she tells the waiter and he nods, leaving her there, all alone. With her fork, she picks at the food and shoves little by little in her mouth. It was starting to get quite lonesome. She had her food and the music. This was supposed to be a happy night with her and John.

Back at the payphone, John is resting his sweaty head. He is breathing heavy and starting to feel quite sick.

"Calm down," Ringo groans. "Just tell her that you'll discuss it later…"

"I'm not good at this…confronting or talking about these things…."

"Do you want me to meet you there?"

"No, this is my dinner with her!" John snaps, again. "All you three ever do is butt in, you know? Can't you guys stay out of everything?" There was a long pause and then a click. Ringo had hung up.

Ringo didn't have a clue what to tell John. He did the best he could but he didn't want to listen.

"What was that about?" George asks, peaking his head in. He and Paul had just been in the other room. "Is everything alright?"

"Close the door, John would kill me if Paul heard," Ringo tells George as he sits himself at the desk. George closes the door and nods to Ringo.

"Is everything alright?" He asks again and this time Ringo tells him, leaning close to Georges face.

"She's asking and John doesn't know how to answer," he whispers. He shrugs. "I tried to help him but all he says is that he doesn't want us to help him…but he asked for help!"

"He's like that, you know!"

"I guess she was asking about papers or something and about them…."

"But she knows her parents, don't she?" George thinks. "Yeah, she does! Right? I mean, she lived with her Grandparents for some time!"

"That's the _they_ she must have been talking about…," Ringo thinks out loud.

The door opens gently and Paul slowly walks in. He greets the other two Beatles and sits next to George. George awkwardly waves while Ringo forces a smile.

"Something wrong?" Paul freezes with a cigarette in hand. He knits his eyes at Ringos obviously faked smile. Ringo drops the smile.

"John will hate me if I told you but I will anyway," he gives in and trouble comes when Cynthia walks in with Brian. He looks up and nods to Brian. "Bri, Cyn, do you mind? Five minutes?" Cynthia frowns, pouting her lips with her hand of her hip. She points a finger at the trio.

"Oh, dear," George sighs. "Cynthia, it really doesn't-"

"You listen here Richard Starkey, George Harrison, and James Paul McCartney, if something so concerns my husband, John Lennon or any of my kids…you better so tell me, you hear me?" With a stern voice, she continues. "If you don't, I will be very upset."

"She's not your kid…," George says, stupidly, thinking. Cynthia glares at George.

"What happened?" Ringo sighs and eyes Brian. "Please, five minutes?"

"Of course," he nods, leaving.

"I guess while they were at dinner, she asked a certain questioned about a certain they and John panicked!"

"Why didn't he ask me?"

"That's the thing, Paul," George says. "He doesn't really want our help."

"Especially yours!" Ringo points out. "He wants us to butt out but what he really means…is you!" Paul hands his cigarette to George and he ghostly looks at Ringo with no emotion.

When the four young Lads found that lonely girl on the bench, they hadn't an idea that she would soon become a part of all their lives. Nowhere to go, Paul was just going to simply be kind and fill papers saying who she was and this is where she lived. It wasn't close to adoption but more just somewhere for her to stay and live until she was older and well to leave and live her life. Two days prior to Paul going to the court house, something weird happened. John had gotten a big packet from a lawyer. He signed and showed Paul. Paul had almost fallen out of his when it read something about adoption on the top.

It took the other three and Cynthia a while to even understand what had happen. John hasn't ever given a reason but Paul until this moment was sure that John wanted his help.

"I thought he wanted me to help him…," he whispers, looking down. His shoulders shrugged. "I sort of had this thought that we were a family." The air got colder as Paul got up. "I guess I was just being funny, huh?" He says, walking out.

He wouldn't dare say it, but Paul was heartbroken.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! As you notice I changed the Person!**

**This may sound like a silly story but I promise it will get better and deeper than this. **

**I know I always have John as an asshole and I don't mean it to be that way.**

**Trust me, he'll get better.**

**I thought about adding Jane but I don't know! .**

**What do you guys think? If I were to, Paul and her would have already been dating.**

The next morning breakfast was insanely awkward for everyone. Ringo chews with caution as Paul simply twirls his silver, shiny spoon in his coffee. The whole table ate in silence. Everyone knew what was wrong except for main subject to the problem.

Alexandra felt like she was missing something. Not a thing was in place this bright morning. Even though snow was on the ground and the temperature was in the mid twenties, the sun was still glomming with happiness. It did not affect The Beatle family one bit. It was an uneasy aroma that made Brian sigh.

"Coffee getting cold?" Brian glances at Paul.

"It's not the only thing cold in the room," he grumbles. Those very words cause John to click in tongue in annoyance. George rolls his eyes.

"It isn't the only thing brewed…either," he says, brew meaning mixed with harsh feelings. John glares. Cynthia throws her fork at the table.

"What the hell is the matter with everyone?" She bites the inside of her cheek and glares at Paul. "This is all your doing, you know?" John smirks to himself. Alexandra shifts uneasy in her seat.

"I think I'm going to take-"

"No, you stay here," Ringo sighs, rubbing his temple. "We're going to discuss this right here, right now."

"You three need to butt the hell out!" Everyone stares at Cynthia. Brian grumbles and gets up.

"I have business to do," he says, knowing there isn't a place in this conversation for him. The air in the room gets tighter and the blood running through everyone's veins boils like hot waters. This was a very hash February morning.

One day before the Ed Sullivan Show and they have to deal with this. Being under pressure is one thing but being under pressure and annoyance with a side of stress is another.

"We will not deal with this anymore." John nods.

"But the fuck out," John agrees. "Your names are placed nowhere …not on one document. Stop acting like a bunch of second placed Dads. There is no room for you," he glares at Paul. "Not a single spot. If I say something to her, I expect her to listen to me and not you." Paul doesn't give an emotion.

"Cyn, last time I checked, your name wasn't placed on anything. There for, where do you stand?" His voice was blank. George nods in agreement. John sucks in a deep breath.

"She's my wife."

"I am his wife. What's his is also mine!" Ringo scrunches his eyes.

"Last time I checked, Alexandra wasn't an object," Ringo states, placing his lap napkin on the table. George shakes his head. "She isn't money or a back account, a house, or a car!"

"And, the last time I checked, she is sitting right there!" Alexandra gulped her whole mouth as everyone looks at her. Ringo, as always, wears a soft face.

"I have to pee," she spoke, getting up in hurry, running through the hotel room. She lands straight into the bathroom.

Her bladder wasn't a ticking bomb but more so of an excuse. She places herself on the closed toilet and takes deep breaths. With each full breath, her mind clears. Paul and John were fighting.

Paul and John weren't fighting over something stupid. No, Paul and John were fighting over her and Alexandra didn't like that. It was a very hard burden. There are millions of girls who love The Beatles. They Paul and they love John. What would they think of her? If any girl found out they were fighting because of her…they'd kill her and use her dead body as a punching bag.

"Oh, dear Lord," she gasps, grasping for the handicap handle. "Please help me. I don't ask for much, just this little thing." Her prayer was quiet and kept gently but urgently to herself.

"She what you have done?" John asks in a weird sort of tone. "She's probably crying and it's because you had to open your mouth!"

"John Lennon, you calm yourself!" Cynthia scolds. "We'll go in our room and they can sit in their own burden!" She curses. The clicks of her well known heels can be heard throughout the room. Or those were John's lifts on his leather shoes.

Alexandra's eyes linger on the shadow in the crack of the door; it places at the bottom. A knock follows soon after and her knees jump to her chest.

"Alexandra," George says softly. "I'm going to come in, is that alright? Can I come in?" She doesn't answer. He sighs, as per usual, and enters the dark bathroom. There is not one window in this bathroom. His long fingers linger at the light. "Can I turn the light on?" He gets not one response. Alexandra hides her face.

George closes the door and leans to the flood. The marbled tiles squeak as he crawls over.

"Alexandra, please don't cry," he whispers, resting his on her head. "It makes me sad when you cry, you know? I really don't like it."

"I'm not crying," she responds softly.

"Good," he lightly chuckles. "There is no need to cry." George reaches his long arm to her back and rubs softly. She moans lightly. "He's just under a lot of pressure. John. He doesn't mean anything." He gives her a full a hug and stays in place. "I love you. I love you a lot and I know I never say it but I do." George was right, he never says that.

Those words leaving his mouth made Alexandra smile to herself. Her heart starts to pound and butterflies fill every inch.

"Ringo loves you, too but he says it a lot. I don't. I love you. That makes up for all the times I didn't." He whispers. "It sounds cheesy, doesn't it? Paul also loves you and Cyn. Especially John. He doesn't show it sometimes but he tells all of us, you know? Every damn day!" George places another kiss but this time, it's slightly on the side of her head. "You're a good role model for Julian. Promise to always be a good sister." She nods. "Do you feel better?" She nods, again. "Good."


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors Note: Thank you for the lovely reviews.**

**Remember, anons can review, too!**

**Maybe I can get three? I'll give you guys a review! Everyone who reviews this chapter. **

**Even if I don't, I probably will at some point as a thank you. **

Today was a nicer day for winter in the big city. No snow and the temperatures were in the thirties. It's quite surprising, really, Alexandra thought. She glances out the window every two minutes to see if the clouds have changed their minds. Nope, she smiles. A knock lightly taps her out her thinking.

"Do you have plans today, Alexandra?" Brian asks, smiling. She doesn't even get a chance to part her lips before two girls push past the man. One is quite tall for a girl.

She has straight but messy blonde hair and a plain face. There was no makeup. All the girls in Alexandra's school wore heavy makeup. Alexandra gave a warming but shy full smile and awkwardly waved. The girl also didn't dress like they did back home; blue jeans and a baseball shirt with sneakers.

Alexandra moves her direction to the other girl and gives the same warming smiles. This girl wore the same, plain face but slightly different hair. Hers was a brown but slightly red. It was an odd color. The hair was also short and really curly but there was still a slight resemblance between the two; the same dull, brown eyes and skinny nose. Their lips were also very thin.

Her attire was a long black sweater and a short black skirt. She, thank God, wore leggings and black boots. Brian points, but in a kind and gentleman way, to the blonde.

"This is Christy and," he smiles to the other girl. "This is Samantha."

"Sam," she corrects. Brian coughs awkwardly and apologizes to the girl. Samantha, or Sam, looks to him and smirks. His nods.

"Alexandra, I have to go meet with the boys, please have fun," he smiles, before leaving. Alexandra sits on the hotel chair, twiddling her thumbs and tapping her feet. The two girls leave and Alexandra looks up and tilts.

I really am a catch, aren't I? She thinks to herself, sarcastically. It was true, Alexandra was lucky in school. Grace was just as awkward as she was. They peep their heads in and she feels like lava is filling her veins.

"Aren't you coming?" Christy asks. Alexandra rushes up and walks on their tail. For sisters, they really do walk close, she thinks, observing them. As they sway they bump shoulders. "Our Dad is the manager, when we heard The Beatles were gonna' stay here, we got real excited, you know?" Christy, in Alexandra's shock, pulls her roughly to stand next to Christy. She smacks gum against her teeth and gives an awkward grin. Alexandra nods moving her stares to before her. "We asked for Paul but that man gave us _you_." Sam laughs.

"What are you, exactly?"

"A groupie?" Alexandra frowns. She was no groupie.

"I'm a family member. John's family member, more so close cousins," she lies, forcing another smile. These girls were too strange for Alexandra's taste. They push her into the elevator. The only noise booming is the smacking of the gum.

"Do you like Elvis?" Christy asks. Alexandra shrugs. She glares. "How do you not know?"

"I guess I like classical music."

"That's boring, real boring!" Sam huffs.

"I guess, so," Alexandra says, slouching against the elevator.

It was only a few seconds before the doors open and both girls drags a scared Alexandra out. They weren't in the lobby but a huge basement, of sorts. It stunk. The basement stunk like something weird. A smoke covers her path and she bats the stuff out of her way.

"It that suppose to be smoking?" Alexandra asks worriedly. Sam laughs, pushing her down.

"Relax, it isn't the pipes."

It wasn't, it was a weird looking cigarette. She waves her arms.

"I don't smoke, it kind of makes me-"

"Hiya!" An Asian girl makes her jump nearly out of her skin, she grabs he chest and glares. The voice was like a screech. The Asian, well, look Asian. Alexandra studies her exotic features. There was only one Asian in her school and his name was Ellison. Alexandra only knew him from Writing class. He was a quiet kid and sometimes the other kids would make fun of him.

"You're Chinese." Alexandra ignorantly states. The girl frowns.

"I'm Korean and my name is Tina!" She laughs. Alexandra's eyes grow wide.

"I'm sorry. I have only seen one Asian…really. We don't have many of them back home."

"_Them_?" Tina eyes a blushing Alexandra. Sam pats Alexandra's shoulders.

"Tina, don't make our guest scared, now!"

"I'm sorry, again. You're actually pretty exotic to me!" She laughs. Tina smiles widely.

"Glad I can be amusing, "she says, turning the boy next to her. She takes a brownie looking thing and hands it over. "Have one."

Like any teenager, Alexandra eats it. The brownie wasn't like any other brownie. It tasted like dirt. But, to her, a brownie was a brownie. She eats all of it and everyone stares. One boy with ginger hair grins widely as do the others.

"She ate it!" He laughs, snorting.

"Yeah?" Alexandra warily eyes them. The other boy with a shaven head points and Alexandra covers her arms, starting to feel self conscious.

"Did you see her eat that?"

"Do they starve you back home?" Christy laughs.

"I have to go and help Cynthia with some stuff!" Alexandra cries, getting up and rushing to the elevator. "What people are these?" She asks out loud, leaning against the elevator. "How dare Brian?' She scuffs. The brownie, there must have been something in the brownie. "Did they put a worm in it?" Alexandra frowns. "That is why they tasted like dirt!" She rushes out of the elevator. "People are disgraceful." She frowns.

"Hm?" Cynthia calls from the room. "Are you back already?" Alexandra nods.

"Tell Brian I am not making any more friends, ever."

"What happened?" Cynthia opens her arms and embraces her in a hug.

"They made me eat a brownie that tasted like dirt! Rubbish!" She spat.

"You must be really upset," Cynthia pulls away, and looks at the saddened girl with a broken hearts.

"It had dirt in it!" She walks into the room and grabs Cynthia's paint brush, studying it. "Some people," she whispers. "Some people are plain cruel. Why must everyone be cruel?" She weeps, plopping her body on the wooden chair. Cynthia must have bought painting supplies, Alexandra grows a smiles. "Cyn, this painting, I can't wait for you to finish! It's always lovely looking."

"Keeps me busy, John gets to be a nervous wreck when I go in the city by myself and I can see why!" She huffs. "The girls even mow me down," she laughs. "So, this morning, I had Brian get me some things for I can keep myself busy. You really think so?"

"You can be an artist, I wish I had a talent, you know?" Cynthia pouts and combs her fingers through Alexandra's hair."I can't do anything right." She mumbles.

"That's not true, you have a talent," Cynthia corrects. "I sort of believe everyone does. " She states, pulling up the cushioned chair. "Do you enjoy anything?"

"I like drama club but there's a reason why I always get the small parts," she responds, taking a sip from Cynthia's cold tea. "We all know I have no music talent. Remember when Ringo tried to teach me the drums? Or when George tried to teach me how to play the guitar? I stunk so much, Julian started to cry!"

"Okay, well you stink at acting and playing the drums and guitar! Doesn't mean you suck at everything."

"I tried to draw the other day, and John said it looked like road kill but he really shouldn't be speaking!"

"Hey, if he noticed road kill, it must have been good!" She laughs. Alexandra knits her eyes and shakes her head.

"Not when it was suppose to be an angel!"

"Angels and road kill, hmm?" Both girls laugh and Alexandra pauses, feeling her head.

The world around her becomes slight fuzzy and Cynthia's speaking didn't sound average, it was sort of muffled. Alexandra lifts out of the chair and goes to the bed.

"Alexandra, something tells me you didn't eat dirt," Cynthia states, making sure the door was locked. Alexandra rolls on the mattress like a ghost and stares at the ceiling. The feeling was necessarily bad but kind of good. She smiles and starts to giggle slightly.

"Cyn!" She calls. "What's happening to me?" She yells out in a moan.


	11. Chapter 11

**Authors note: Thanks for your nice reviews and thank you to my readers!**

Alexandra sits herself against the bed post wearing a smile bigger than her very own cheeks can handle. It was a weird sensation and she was quite happy…unbelievably happy for no reason and that made her paranoid but she couldn't erase the smile. Cynthia zooms into her face and purses her lips.

"Are you okay?" In response, Alexandra gives an obnoxious laugh.

"Yeah," she says, dragging the 'yeah'.

"Do you want anything?" Cynthia pries, lifting a brow. "Not hungry?" In a second, the younger girls eyes widen in a weird kind of lust. Her mouth salivates.

"Crisps and gummy bears!" She practically screams with a hint of laughter. Her arms flap in pure excitement. Cynthia nods wearily of her actions.

"Okay, Okay," she sighs, exiting the hotel room. At this point, all Cynthia wanted to do was finish her painting. Instead, she has to deal with a high teenage girl that has a hardcore craving for gummy bears. She was contemplating whether taking out the white ones or not. Alexandra always had. "She probably wouldn't care."

Cynthia gently 'breaks' into Ringo's hotel room and picks up the bag of gummy bears, which were now warm bears. They've been in that very same bag since the group left England. It was candy and wouldn't go bad. Candy had self lives but still, the bag looks funny and makes Cynthia snub her nose. The large bags of crisps were only milometers away. With her thumb and middle finger, she plucks them from the bureau.

"MUM!" Alexandra calls from the other room. Cynthia freezes in her spot, cheeks flustered. That was the very first time that she had ever heard the girl say that. It didn't count, Cynthia thinks to herself.

"I'm coming!" She forces her tone to be sweet but in reality, she wants to roll in the bad and sleep for all eternity. She rushes to the other room to find George smiling widely. Cynthia's eyes larger like the moon.

"Back already, it's only nine?" She questions, knitting her eyes at the goofy boy. "As I think about, I didn't hear you!"

"I took the other elevator," he says, pointing to his right. He grins, turning his point to the 'spacing' girl. Alexandra rolls around on the bed claiming to be a whale. _A whale._

"Wee!" She giggles, gripping the light blue seats. Cynthia lightly tosses the gummies and crisps.

"Don't make a mess!" She warns.

"I take it her new friend's?"

"They're not her friends, George!" Cynthia states, sternly. "They weren't nice. Kind of rude and mocking, like." George laughs at Alexandra and tackles her on the bed, tickling her. "George," Cynthia sighs, frowning at the crumbled crisps across the bed.

"If I get a crisps up my fucking arse because of you two, I'm-" John pauses mid-sentence, studying Alexandra. "Is she high?"

"As the sky!" She cheers. John throws his leather coat on the desk chair and tilts his shades.

"Alexandra's high? That's not her to randomly smoke something." Ringo, states. Paul shrugs, walking in.

"I have a bit of a head ache, I'm going to nap."

"At nine?" George knits his eyes. John picks up a crisp and glares at George. George faces John and smirks. "Wasn't my fault!" He tosses some crisps off the bed and then proceeds to poke Alexandra.

"George," she moans.

"Where the fuck you poking her?" John asks, looking at the younger boy's hand.

"Her stomach!"

"How about your other hand? I suppose you got two?" John whacks the boy's legs. "Get off the bed!" George hops off and fixes his hair.

"Alright, John, I'm off," he grumbles. "I'm going to write a letter to me Mum," he says, walking through the other door and into his own room next door. Cynthia smiles and hugs John.

"If you're not going to bed anytime soon, I'm going to finish a little with the painting," she says, releasing him from her arms.

"It's coming along, huh?" John grins, turning his direction to Alexandra. Cynthia mumbles a slight yes. "Alexandra," he teases, poking her, himself. He does it repeatedly to her cheek. Each time to receive the same response she's been giving all night.

"I take it she's eating the gummy bears?" Ringo calls from his own room.

"Somewhat, " John responds, plucking a gummy bear from her hair. He contemplates on eating it but decides to throw it in the small trash. John lies down next to Alexandra and continues to pick the candy from the bed and her hair. Cynthia frowns.

"I thought you wanted to eat them?" Cynthia questions, not removing her eyes from the improving painting.

"Mmmhm," she sings out loud, flapping her arms again. Alexandra reaches for the trash to receive a small smack to her hand. John knits his eyes at her pout.

"I wouldn't suppose you'd be eating them, would you?" He reaches in his pants pocket and takes out a hard candy. "Suck on this and don't choke because I will not be saving you!" He states, leaning back, closing his eyes with his arms and legs crossed. He hums to nothing and rocks his head back and forth.

Alexandra hungrily pops the strawberry flavored ball in her mouth. It was only the size of a small rock. The taste slowly fills her mouth; it was dull in flavor. John peaks through his lids to see a disappointed girl with a disgusted face. He sighs slightly.

"Eat it and be happy."

"It taste like saw dust," She whines, kicking her legs and rolling around. "I want the gummy bears!"

"You would have had the gummy bears if you didn't throw them everywhere," Cynthia calls from her little corner, distressfully. "Next time someone offers you anything, don't take it." She begs to herself, praying to God that this won't happen again. It was 'whatever' when John tried it that night but Alexandra was like an annoying toddler. It was different. Bob Dylan had given the boys their first 'pot experience' and all they did was laugh and roll around on the floor like morons. Alexandra's personality totally changed.

"Ringo!" She yells at the top of her lungs; so loud that they short of burn. "Ringo!" She sings, rolling more, landing on John's stomach. He peaks his head in and smiles. She points. "Has anyone ever said you have a nose like a horse and that a horse has a nose like Larry Fine and that you look like Larry Fine from the Three Stooges?" She points out. Cynthia drops her paint covered brush and glares at the laughing girl.

"That isn't polite!" Cynthia scolds. "John, do something, would you!" John leans up and smirks at Ringo.

"Ah, Cyn, she wouldn't mean it and I do have a big nose," Ringo smirks, hiding his slight pain.

"He snores, too," George calls from the other room. "Loud. If you listen, you can hear him during the night."

"George, did you just admit you listen to Ringo when he sleeps?" John laughs, knowing that he can use this against the poor boy later. There was a long pause.

"No," George protests. Ringo hops over a suit case and looks into George's hotel room.

"I hope you don't watch me," he comments and soon enough, a pen was flicked at his head. "Ow," Ringo rubs his forehead and it is Georges turn to laugh.

"Haha." John looks and rolls his eyes.

"She's drooling now!" John rubs his wet shirt debating on throwing the salivating girl on the floor. Cynthia puts away her art materials and sits on the bed. "I'm about to release her in wild!"

"She wanted to be a whale earlier," Cynthia narrows her eyes. Alexandra gets up on all fours and attacks John with her mouth. John jumps off the bed, hitting his head on the nightstand. He grumbles. Ringo stands there face blank.

"Whales don't bite," was the only thing he could say. George peaks his head in.

"I have a fucking concussion and the only thing you can say is _whales don't bite_?"John moans. Alexandra giggles at George.

"Are you a fucking dog?"George laughs. She shakes her head and lightly scratches Cynthia. Cynthia, creeped out, gets off the bed and sits on the other bed.

"Meow," she smirks, licking her hand like a cat would do a paw.

John looks at Cynthia and hold up his reddish hand.

"Cyn, I'm bleeding!" He whines. She nods and gets up, going to the bathroom to get a wash cloth. Alexandra stops her weird animal acts and leans back.

"I want to go to sleep and wake up a kitty," she slurs, half out of it. "I have to pee." Alexandra rambles on and on. "I'm sleepy."

"You and me both." Cynthia sighs, wrapping John's hand.

"We can sleep in that bed, you know?" John states. Cynthia shakes her head.

"There was a spider in that bed!" She whines. Alexandra freezes, feeling a bit paranoid.

"Spiders?" She asks. In seconds, she gets up, wobbling and running out the door. Cynthia got up and closes the hotel door, making sure it was completely locked.

"Goodnight!" Cynthia smirks, lying on the other bed. John smiles.

"Why didn't you say that sooner?" John grins.

Alexandra had a deathly fear of spiders and being high didn't help her paranoia. She rushes into Paul's room, which he was silently sleeping. In one swift motion, she was under his covers, holding him. That was the way she slept and Paul was underlie confused when he woke up to find her with no pants.


	12. Chapter 12

**Authors Note: Thank you, Thank you, Thank you! I never thought I'd get four reviews. Thank you so much!**

**Please enjoy this chapter! I decided to add Jane and soon Maureen will come too! ^^ Not for while though. It'll mostly be Cynthia that has a huge part and many chapter from now, Pattie will for a while.**

**Then MANY MORE chapters, Yoko.**

Then next morning was interesting to say the least. Paul stretches his long arms and groans as his muscles spasm. He looks around, smiling at the sun beaming though the crack of the shades; a nice day at last. His balled fist rubs his sleepy eyes half awake.

"Ey! Paul!" George calls, barging in. "Do you want a cup of coffee?" The ends of his lips tug to a smirk and immediately retract. Paul knits his eyes.

"What's wrong?" George blankly points and Paul's eyes follow in that direction. Panic fills the air of both men. Paul covers his bare and now bumpy chess with a thick, white comforter. It was only a precaution and a scared reaction. Thinking he was doing good but really, it didn't help. As the covers get pulled up, it unravels something so pure and innocent. His jaw locks and all the pee held in his bladder trickles slowly out, making a wet circle.

Paul, like a bat out of hell, jumps bare bottomed off the bed. This is not good. This isn't good at all.

"He's going to fry you like an egg," George states, swallowing harshly burning his throat in the process. He turns quickly on his heels and tries to make a run for it but Ringo's small stature blocks him.

"What's all the fuss-oh?" All liveliness in his face drops. Ringo looks up at George and George frowns. "I'll call home for my funeral suit."

"I'll call his Brother and Jane." Paul pokes Alexandra gingerly and cautiously. In response, a little groan comes from her dried lips. With one swipe, her rare was covered by a sheet.

"Two more minutes." She begs. "John, just two more minutes."

"I hope _he_ stays asleep for two more minutes," Ringo grumbles under his breath.

"Maybe if we're lucky-"

"Up and at em' boys!" Brian calls, walking down the hall. In cat relax time, George jumps into the hallway. He shushes a confused Brian. "What-"

"Whatever you do, do not and I mean do not wake up John and if he wakes-"

"Make sure he spares my life!" Paul begs, glaring at sleeping girl. Brian tilts his head, the least bit worried. He struts into the room.

"Paul, did you pee yourself?"

George narrows his eyes and forces a smirk.

"You pee'd?"

"Harrison, I don't want to hear it!" He snaps. "Plus, you'd probably shit yourself too!" Brian ignores the bickering and shakes Alexandra.

"She has a habit of taking her pants off when she sleeps."

"And you know that how?" Ringo questions, lighting a smoke.

"Cynthia told me. Every morning Alexandra's bottoms are always placed on the floor of the foot or scrambled in the blankets." He smirks, chuckling a little. "She is a young teen-"

"Don't you even go there," Paul interrupts.

"It's only-"

"Natural. Natural, yes. In my bed, no." George shifts uncomfortably in his own clothing.

"I really wish you hadn't said that." Brian smiles and pats George's shoulder as he leaves.

"Please be ready soon."

"Now, why was she in your bed in the first place?" Ringo asks, taking a puff. George still wears his awkward blush.

"If I knew, I would tell you." Paul was now getting snappy and irritable. "All I know is she's tired. I poked her and Eppy shook her." Alexandra snores away, cuddling with the cold, cotton sheet. He study's her frame.

"Cyn, have you seen my shoes?" All eyes widen and panic once more.

"Fuck." Paul says, freezing up. Ringo struts backwards.

"All captains sink with ship but I'm not the captain!" He smiles. "I'll see you in your coffin Paul and George," he pauses. "You may want to get that coffee now." George pushes past Ringo but Ringo races him out of the room.

"Chicken shits," Paul grumbles, thinking about committing suicide.

"Mmm, John?" Alexandra groans, waking up. Her vision was blurry but through the fuzzy image, she could tell it wasn't John. "Paul? Did John send you to wake me?"

John pulls on his left leather shoe and kisses Cynthia lightly on the cheek. They both give a morning smile.

"Don't work too hard, okay?" John nods. It was a nice morning, the sun out and bright. Even the snow looked gorgeous even though it gave them nothing but trouble since they have arrived. The hope within both of them silently pleads for it to stay this way. England was cold, yes. They were use to not so kosher weather, yes.

That was the reason though. England had nice days but rain usually swept it away. New York's part of the sun hovers over the city with not many clouds. It was, to put it bluntly, nice. The weather was perfect and it was simple as that.

Cynthia hands John his wallet to receive another kiss but this time, gently on her lips.

"So peaceful, isn't it?" John grins, smugly.

"Very peaceful, even the gummy bear stuck up my arse!" A hiss spurts from his teeth. Cynthia had wacked him.

"That is disgusting!"

"You're the bright one to give them to her!"

"I didn't know," she pouts, crossing her arms. "I thought she was going to eat them!"

"I guess not, _Miss. Powell_," he smirks.

"_I guess not, Mr. Lennon_," she grins, mocking him. Her arms cross and her foot taps.

"Not now, I have work!"

"John!" She rolls her eyes and plops on the bed. John throws his wallet and tosses his coat.

"Fine, you greedy woman!" John tackles her, tickling every inch on her stomach. She kicks and punches trying to suppress every laugh. "I got you, you little wench!"

"Hey!" She laughs out loud, tears dripping to her nose.

Before John could even blink, a high pitched scream echoes. He rushes up and Cynthia not too far behind. It is a failed attempt to reach the crying girl.

"Ow!" John frowns, tripping over the door frame and Cynthia falling backwards. As John fell, she tripped and hit her head on the same frame. They both try to rush up but notice George and Ringo also attempting her rescue.

Attempting is surely the keyword because they also fail but defiantly more miserably than John and Cynthia.

"Watch where you're going!" George grumbles, rubbing his chin. Ringo had clanked into George's chest now starting a whole new issue. John, with Cynthia's help, get's up. He doesn't bother to wipe himself off.

"Alexandra!" He screams, charging into Paul's room. A pause happens, an angrier pause. Alexandra sits up cover her nude southern region. She glares at Paul who's in the wide open.

The small area surrounding John echoes with snaps as he presses each finger.

"You-are-dead," was the last words spoken before John charges and blood spurts over the white comforter.


	13. Chapter 13

**Authors Note: Thank you, Thank you, Thank you! **

**I have a surprise for all of you! XD A certain red head will be joining us for the next chapter, can you guess who?**

**Don't worry, a happy and witty John Lennon will come shortly! **

Paul looks at John. John looks at Paul. One set of eyes filled with panic and the other with wrath. A bunch of cracks fill the room; John snaps each knuckle with the other palm. He hovers over Paul's limp body, blood cover his finger tips. Paul's nose is bloody and soon to be bruised. Brian was sure to be upset.

"Shit," Paul hisses, holding his sore nose in his hand, crimson fluid sweeping through. Scurrying, he uses his behind to navigate the rug. It burns underneath him. "John, please!" The plead in his voice was like a man begging for mercy hanging by his toes. John Winston Lennon did not want to hear it.

"She's fifteen, you sick prick!" He hisses, raising his fist then clashes it down on his poor band mate's cheek. Paul's hand lashes to the left side. George and Ringo stay put.

"Stop!" Alexandra whines trying to go to Paul's aid but Cynthia holds her back by her shoulders. She pouts, covering her lower half. "Cyn, can you please get me pants?"

"I'll do it," Ringo offers, leaving the room. George hands her a thicker blanket.

Back to the right side, Paul's other cheeks burns with fire as John slams another punch.

"John, I didn't-"

"She's mine, not yours! She is mine! Don't you touch her!" He screams, voice cracking and eyes going puffy. George sighs.

"John!" He interrupts, holding John's fist. "Please calm down!" A rare and cruel silence fills the room. Not even Alexandra's whimper can be heard. John glares up and stands. Paul's bloodshed was in a small puddle.

He walks slowly past Cynthia and Alexandra, then Ringo.

"She's mine...both of them."

Both of them. Both girls in the room belonged to him. Cynthia was his wife. She was only his wife. Her semi-artificial blonde hair, her sort of chubby cheeks, the charming smile; everything. Alexandra was no different. She also belonged to him and will never be another's daughter. Everything...everyone was a connected. Everyone was connected.

"I'm sorry, Paulie." Alexandra grabs her cotton pj bottoms and walks to the bathroom. "I should have stayed home with Julian." They have not been in New York long at all and Alexandra has caused two fights and gotten high. Nothing was well.

She locks the door behind her and slowly shreds the clothing from her body. The mirror before her reflects herself.

Why would John even assume that Paul wanted her? I have no hips, she thinks to herself. I don't have sexy breast or long, seductive legs that cross beautifully.

"I'm hideous," she whispers, tapping her nose. It looks funny with its ugly bump. "Cynthia changed hers," she thinks out loud. "I should do the same." She pinches the flabby area on her stomach and bit her lip. Nothing was worse than her pimples on her cheeks or that annoying space between her front teeth. "Or my feet!" she cries out loud, studying them. "They are like wide whales!"

A knock interrupts herself criticism, making her pull a shirt on and her pj bottoms. It knocks again. She looks at the flimsy door.

"Come in!" She says. Cynthia walks in and a small grin tugs at her lips. Her arms cross. Alexandra sits on the toilet, pretending to be happy as can be.

"I was wondering what was taking you so long! Would you like to call Grace?" She smiles at the mention of her name and nods. Her legs rush to Paul's bed for she can dial the phone.

It rings a few times before a high pitched voice answers.

"Hello?"

"Is Grace there? It's Alie!" Within seconds a girl answers.

"AHHH!" It screams. Alexandra moves the phone away from her sensitive ear and winces. "How is America? How is the food? Did you-"

"Grace!"

"The boys, are they fit?"

"I don't go out much," Alexandra says, hinting at boredom. She scratches her 'bumpy' nose and continues. "I mostly stay in the hotel room and watch telly!"

"That is no fun but I assume you didn't hear?"

"What?"

"Jeremy decided to make a bomb in the backyard...it burnt down the whole yard including the ancient swing set!" Grace bursts out laughing and Alexandra could only grin.

"What a git," she forces a snort. There was a long, awkward pause.

"I hope for you to come home soon!"

"I can't!"

"I know," she whines but before she could say any more, the phone goes dead. She looks up to meet a frowning John.

"We can't pay for long distance," he says, bluntly. He grabs the phone from Alexandra's ear, leaving her flabbergasted. She frowns and nods. "Get ready for lunch, you missed breakfast and get some real clothes on! We're Lennon's, not some trailer trash!" He grunts, walking out.

This was how today was going to be. Alexandra knew that all their phone calls were covered. Something was bothering him.

"John!" She calls, tumbling as she ran after him. He looks back, fixing his shirt. The Beatles had practice. Tomorrow night was February 9th, The Ed Sullivan Show. He narrows his eyes unfazed and uninterested.

"Hm?"

"Can I and Cynthia go for a walk today? We'll be careful! I promise!"

"It's too cold," he says, turning the other way. "Too cold." He repeats, singing.

Something was defiantly wrong.


	14. Chapter 14

**Authors Note: Sorry it has been a little while since I have last updated. I apologize! **

_Alexandra's P.O.V_

I feel a hot ray of sunshine the moment I wake. It isn't the only thing bothersome but also the heavyweight around my chest and stomach. A yawn occupies my mouth while I stretch every muscle. In a response, a groan comes up but not from my own mouth. I wearily look to my side.

"John," I smile, cuddling into his chest. He must have climbed into bed with me early this morning. Most people would question and they should but this family isn't exactly normal. I go with the flow and enjoy the heat radiating off his chest. It's soft. Guys usually take offense to that because they want their chest to be hard but when it is soft, I like it more.

He is sort of a bear compared to me. Kevin has a boney chest but the feeling I get while holding him is hot. All over my face, I feel as if I am burning up like a volcano. While I hug John, I sort of feel more of a secure and emotional feeling. I don't want to pull away but make him my cocoon. That'd be sort of gross, though. Huh?

Kevin's hugs are uncomfortable like George's is. When I hug George, I get the same uncomfortable, hot sensation throughout my body. It is awkward but I'll start to laugh and leave drool on his suit. George doesn't hug me tight anymore like he use to. It is okay because I wouldn't want someone else saliva on my suit.

The bed shifts and rattles to my displeasure. The knuckles on my right hands go a white color as I squeeze his shirt, tugging it; making the whole thing stretched and wrinkly.

"No!" I beg, trying to cuddle more. I like it maybe too much. He chuckles slightly and gives in. Big arms squeeze me so tight it almost pushes the air out of my lungs. Tickling feeling takes over an ear.

"I have to go to work, Love," he says to me sweetly and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. What a change from the last day or two, I think. I nod. Of course you have to go to work. You always have to go to work.

Cautiously, I let go of him. Why? Another kiss is planted but this time on a cheek.

"You always have work!" I whine and think of Julian. He is at home with Cynthia's mother and friend, I believe. I have only met them about once or twice. People and I don't exactly match especially when they like to pinch at you.

I sleepily sit up and pout. John pulls on the same pants he had on yesterday, right over his underwear. _Gross_. The others must do the same thing and then they wonder why the car smells like fish…. He smiles at me.

"Go back to sleep!"

"I can't now!" I laugh, and in the corner of my eye, I see the room service booklet. Ringo said I could order something for breakfast. John said no. Ringo said yes. Cynthia does it every day but I can't? Calling that number and placing an order would be going against his 'fatherly' wishes. I look up at him, smiling. "Can I order breakfast just this once, please?" He shakes his head.

"Go downstairs, you have two feet!" I don't protest or complain because he is right, I have two perfectly working legs and feet. My arms and legs stretch once again as I crawl out of bed.

The clock on the night stand read 6:45. Every morning for school I have to get up at 6:00 am, check on Julian, change his diaper, bring him downstairs, start coffee, and then feed him. It is gross because whatever I put in there, he spits right back out. I don't complain because it is the least I could do for everything they have done for me.

School usually ends at 3:00 pm, so when I come home, I let Cynthia do what she has to do and babysit. Sometimes we go outside and play when it isn't raining. I don't mind because Julian is quiet most of the time so I can study and finish my homework. He lays down on his stomach on my bed when I work at my desk. It's so cute.

"I have to go, alright?" I lift my chin and nod. Johns waves me goodbye and as he walks out, him and George clash. He chews on a piece of buttered toast and smiles.

"Good morning," he laughs and before I could speak, he throws me a bag of green looking things…green gummy bears! Then I squint…they are green Jelly Belly's. They are much chewable than gummy bears but I like gummy bears. I have a lamp. As they hit my bed a few fall out.

"Next time, you can hand them to her!" Ringo says, smiling at me. "I got them for you?" SEE? He spoils me more than the rest of them. George frowns.

"No, I did!"

"No, I _did."_

"They both did," Paul walks in, his face looks strangely brand new; only a little blue on one cheek and a semi-split lip. "With my money!" So, technically Paul bought them for me. I whisper a thank you and pop a lime tasting Jelly Belly in my mouth. The ones back home are much softer.

Not so tangy either. They are good, though. It is candy and candy is good. Best when you have it for breakfast. Now, I don't have to walk down to the dining hall. I have this huge bad to last me for awhile. I smile at Paul glowing stance.

"Paul, what is going on?" I tilt my head and he smiles wider. A petite red head walks into my room.

"Paul, you promise we'd get coffee before going to work!" She pouts and he nods, grabbing her arm, happily. I wave to Jane.

"Hello, Jane," I say, politely. She looks over to me and smiles.

"Hello!" I have only met her about five times during her and Paul relationship. She is really nice but sometimes snooty but not in the rude way. Jane had come from a much more privileged lifestyle then the rest of us. She doesn't like rock n' roll much and it confuses me.

Maureen likes it a lot. She was Ringo's steady girlfriend and much nicer than Jane. Not that Jane is rude because she is far from it. Maureen, or Mo, is very friendly. I also she her quite frequently back home. She met Ringo back at the Cavern club where they use to play. George is single but he is always with girls after performances and practice. It makes me mad because George shouldn't waste his time with groupies like them. He is a good man and should get a girl that is nice like Mo.

Mo calls Ringo, Ritchie. It is funny to me, really. No one call's Ringo that! Maybe his Mother? I have never met Ringo's parents or anyone's, really. I only met Cynthia's mother. John doesn't have a Mum or Dad just his Aunt Mimi but I've never met her, either.

I sigh and cuddle my legs. It just me in the room because as I was thinking, I totally ignored the fact everyone left. Cynthia is in the next room painting, probably. With my index and thumb, I pluck another Jelly Belly. They weren't too bad. I smile as I savor the taste.

Maybe I could call Grace or Kevin? I promised him back home that I would call him at least once. We will be away for more than a few weeks. It makes me shiver when I think of all the school work I will have to catch up on.

"Cynthia," I softly call from my bed. I hear nothing in return and I assume she hadn't heard me. I jump off my bed and rush to my door frame. "Cynthia?" I call louder but no response. "hm?" I walk in my nightgown to the hotel room her and John share most nights. She was not in there.

Me, myself, and I. That is all. That is all that there is. I am barely alone. I spot a little note on her table or nightstand. It reads simply: be back in two hours. Two hours? Where in God's name will she be for two hours? John said specifically we do not go on our own. Unless Brian had gone with her? That would be stupid because he would be with them not Cynthia. What could Brian do if a million girls swapped Cynthia? Not that Brian's weak but I highly doubt he could battle girls. Maybe a few girls at a time but a lot…no way.

I decide to change into a simple outfit: a black skirt with a white shirt. I loved those Jelly Belly's but I now wanted breakfast. Maybe some eggs? At home, Cynthia doesn't cook breakfast, breakfast but toast. That is what I have every day if not cereal or oatmeal. Oatmeal is kind of gooey and nasty, though. My short legs walk down the long hallway to the elevator.

"Where are you going?" Is the first thing that whacks me in the face. Jane smiles as she walks out, blocking my way in. She folds her freckled arms and wrinkles her nose.

"How was coffee with Paul?"

"It was nice," she answers. I nod and she nods. It's a bit awkward. She looks at me and gives a toothier smile. "Where are you going?" I am stuck with my words. I have no clue really because I wasn't hungry anymore.

"The lobby," was all I could come up with. We were all a little 'eh' today because to tonight is Sunday, February ninth. The Beatles will be on _The Ed Sullivan Show_. She nods, again.

"Will you be joining me and Cynthia tonight?"

"Of course! They'll be brilliant, I just know it," I smile and Jane strangely locks arms with me.

"We can go to the lobby together," she offers. Without a choice, I walk into the elevator with her. "The coffee and muffin were very good. I'm very fully, though. I think it's all the nuts I ate on the plane?" She questions herself and then turns to me. "Mo didn't join you two?"

"Ringo didn't want her to come…It's sad, really!" Jane frowns and nods.

"Well, Paul didn't even know I was coming until I showed up!"

"And that's why he was glowing like a fairy?" Jane's face drops and shakes her head.

"Don't say fairy," she hushes me and I don't have a clue. I panic and look at her.

"What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything?"

"What did I say-"

"Fairy is another word for _gay." _I mouth an 'oh'. I never even knew what gay was until George explained it to me. It doesn't make sense like a lot of things to me. I shrug my shoulders and walk into the lobby. I stop dead short and walk make in. Jane follows me. "What is wrong?" She pouts.

"I don't like those girls," I point through the closing doors; Christy and Sam. "They gave me something that made me crazy. They were mean and rude. Brian was wrong to let me hang with them." Jane knits her eyes.

"They drugged you?"

"They thought it would be funny but it wasn't!" When we finally reach our floor, we walk in sync all the way to my rom. I envy Jane just like I envy most girls. She had a very pretty face and cute smile. Every time I meet her I feel the need to impress her. That is why I hound her to death but she doesn't seem to mind. I suppose she likes me? My shoulders shrug.

"Are you okay?" She must have noticed me staring at her pretty, facial features.

"Nothing, just thinking! You have pretty hair," I laugh, sitting on my bed. Jane does her usually nod and sits next to me.

"What now?"

"We wait hours on end until tonight!" I laugh. It was true because that is what I did most nights…_wait._


	15. Part Two: Home Sweet Home

_February 24, 1964 _

Back home and I am not too sure on what to think. Being in America was a great experience for my age. It had its ups and downs but it was absolutely wonderful! The time went quick. Seeing my family with so much pride was uplifting. I love watching John perform because if he spots Cynthia and me, he gives one of his signature winks. I think I giggle more than the fans do!

But now that is all in great memory and tomorrow, I start school once again! Grace will fill me with question as will my teachers fill me with missing work. Homework is a dreadful thing but I promise Cynthia I will always do my best in school. Not for her really but for me. She wants me to go to university and I guess I will. Isn't that what you are supposed to do? I shrug to myself and finish folding my last shirt and tucking it away.

The Beatles will be off again soon but I told John that I wished to stay in school for I won't get too far behind. School is school. In a weird way, I am quite normal there. No one bothers me but no one truly cares. All my friends see The Beatles as people.

"Are you in deep thought?" I must be because I didn't even notice John walk in. He hands me something wrapped neatly in a napkin. "Take it!" He laughs. "It won't bite." I nod but I don't quite know what it is. Before it falls from my accident prone fingers, I sit on my neatly made bed.

Surely it won't bite because it isn't something alive. I laugh and nod. It isn't much of anything really. Do you know those machine like things that you put money in and it dispenses a tube? John must have found one and put a pence in it. The object was a small, plastic gold ring with a fake diamond. It wasn't really anything but I like it anyway but it doesn't fit. The ring is meant for two year olds…. I look up to him.

"Well?" He urges. I nod.

"John, I like it!" He frowns and folds his arms.

"No! I really do!" I laugh and hug him and he hugs back warmly. He chuckles in my ear making it tickle slightly. My fresh, soft hair turns frizzy because he decides to ruffle it. It makes me feel warm and tingly. "Thank you," I say. Thank you, John Winston Lennon. _Thank you for everything._

He pulls away, grinning at me. John isn't wearing a black or grey suit. That is sort of strange to me because for the last few months that is all I see them in; suits, suits, suits. Right now, he is wear jeans, cowboy boots, and black tee. He looks pretty good but his hair isn't neat. I imagine what his looks like is what mine looks like; frizzy and out of place. I would fix it if I could comfortably reach it.

"Are you both hungry?" Cynthia asks from my doorway with Julian in her arms. He is giggling like always. John shrugs and looks to me.

"Are you cooking?" I ask. John snorts.

"Well, I thought we could go out, maybe?" I wasn't really feeling it. I wanted to get into my pj's and go crawl up into my bed with a book. It is almost seven pm and I have school. I mean, I don't go to bed until nine but my eyes can barely stay open as it is. "Maybe some Thai food? Jane had told me about a place on Baker Street!" Baker Street? It'll take at least twenty minutes to get there. Even with John's driving. John smiles.

"Yeah, Cyn!" He laughs. "We can do that!

"Alexandra, do you want to stay home or come to eat? We're bringing Julian either way."

"I'll stay home, if that's alright," I say. They both nod. Cynthia looks to John and quickly fixes his hair so it is back to normal. He messes her hair and she gets slightly annoyed.

"John!" She whines, fixing it with one hand but Julian copies his daddy and does the same thing but it doesn't go well. Cynthia cries out a little as he grabs for her small, gold hooped earring.

"Cyn!" John gasps. "You okay?"

"I'm fine John, no blood, right?" She smirks but I can tell Jules really did a number on her. Babies love Shiny things. They love shiny things that dangle even more. I pet his head and place a soft kiss.

"I love you, Julian!" I say in baby talk. "Oh, Yes I do!"

John sighs and shakes his head.

"Good because we just got this carpet, you know?" He looks to Julian and pokes his baby nose. Julian whacks his daddy's hand.

"Don't be fresh, Jules!" Cyn whines.

He wasn't. The baby doesn't like being poked. I wouldn't be fond of it either. I look to John. All of them have until March off. That is when they start their mini acting career. It sounds fun and I can't imagine them acting. John doesn't like following Brian's rules and he's going to follow a directors rules_? Right._ I think Ringo will be a good actor. I don't know quite why the reason is but Ringo gives off that theatre boy vibe.

"Behave and make sure every door is locked!" John says, tucking his wallet inside his jeans. Cynthia puts on her cute wool coat and grabs Julian once again. We walk down the stairs together, me almost tripping. John only sighs.

"Are you sure we should leave her alone?" He whispers to Cynthia but just enough so I could also hear.

"John," she warns, walking to the door. He snorts and kisses me on my forehead with a quick goodbye. Cynthia also kisses me and I give Julian one.

"Be good!" I tease, shutting the door behind them.

It is a weird feeling. I haven't been home alone many times before and the times I have, I was with Julian. It is absolutely quiet. I sigh and sit on the couch. What do I do? I don't like T.V much and all the interesting stuff is locked in John's study. I glance towards the phone. Way too late to call my friends. I mean, I could call Jeremy, his Mum wouldn't care an inch. Kevin got in trouble for using the house phone for silly things and Grace's Parents have game night on Sundays! I sigh and dial Jeremy's number off the top of my head.

"'Ello?" George? How in God-

"George?" I question unsure.

"What?"

"You aren't Jeremy…."

"Well, no. I'm too busy being George Harrison."

"But I thought I called Jeremy's house!"

"But you didn't, you called George Harrison's house just as he was about to eat dinner…alone!" He laughs. I can sense the humor in his voice. I brighten up.

"You are alone too?" I laugh.

"Mmhm," he responds. What a thing. Huh?

"Me too, they went out to eat with the baby but I decided to stay home. Would you like to come over?" George gives a hum.

"No, I think imma' stay home, is that alright?" I frown to myself. George can be the biggest pain God ever created but I do enjoy his company. Just the thought of me and him being home alone in my home. I love George in two different ways.

The one way is that I see him as my brother and the other I see him as an older man. He is an older man and he makes me tingle sometimes. Not the way Kevin does but in a different way.

"Are you sure?"

"Are you scared, Alexandra?" He teases. In all honesty, I'm not. They seem to forget I slept outside on a park bench for years. I know all the sorts of crazy out there.

I shutter because I don't like to think about it. The night it would thunder and lighting, I would hide under the bar's steps. I was small enough to fit but it wasn't pleasant because there were huge bugs that would crawl over me. Not ants but like _bugs_.

"No, George," I say. "I'm fine. Maybe I'll try to look for Jeremy's umber or call Paul, maybe." Before I could say bye, he hangs up. Thank you, George. I mumble to myself and redial to call Paul.

"'Ello?" He says, just like George had. He sounds exhausted; heavy breathing, raspy voice.

"Paul?"

"Alexandra, I have company," Paul says. _I have company_. It was a strange tone of voice. I hear giggling in the back and girls talking. Keyword being _girls_.

"Paul, is that Jane?" I question.

"Mind your business," he groans and I do. I don't question anymore. He sounds pretty serious. Like I disrupted him.

"Paul, are you feeling okay?" I ask innocently.

"I'm fine." It's a flat tone.

"John, Cyn, and the baby went out! I am home alone." I tell him. Maybe I should call Ringo and tell him I am home alone, too?

"They went out without you?" He asks, hinting that he is worried.

"Yeah! I have the house to myself, pretty strange really and I am kind of bored," I say, casually. I cradle my knees. There was a long pause. "Paul?"

"Listen, I have to go, alright?"Another one. He didn't say bye before he hung up! I frown to myself and thought about calling him back up but refrained myself from doing so. Maybe I should call Ringo? "Hmnm," I think out loud. My fingers linger over the spin dial. I do it anyway.

"Hello?" Maureen!

"Hi, Mo!"

"No?"

"You aren't Maureen?" It wasn't. Her voice was a bit different. Actually, it wasn't even a Liverpool like accent.

"Did I get the wrong number?" I question, looking at the dials.

"It depends, who are you looking for?" She questioned.

"Richard?"

"Oh, he is here." She says flatly.

"Well?" I urge her to give him the phone. She pauses.

"He isn't available right now. He doesn't feel like talking."

"Doesn't feel like talking? Tell him it's me, Alexandra." I say. This lady isn't Mo. Mo is nice. This lady isn't very friendly.

"He doesn't want to talk to you!" I hang up on her but I soon feel guilty doing so. I call George back up and he answers right away.

"E-"

"Why doesn't anyone want to talk to me?" I ask, tears forcing themselves from my eyes. "No one wants to talk to me! Not Paul, Not Ringo! You didn't even say bye before you hung up!" I cry, choking a little.

"Alexandra, what's wrong?" George asks, worried.

It's happening. My anxiety or whatever it is. It's kicking in and I feel my heart pounding a mile a minute. I cry louder and more dramatic. I feel something come over me where I can't stop. I rock back and forth. My breathing hitches a height that isn't pleasant. I haven't had a meltdown in months. This isn't good. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to block out the images before they come.

"Alexandra, Love, you need to breath. Breath, okay?" George talks calmly in my ear but it naturally blocks it out. Not on purpose but on accident. It's something else blocking it out. Soon enough the voices will start talking.

"No one cares," it says. That is all it says. The voice says things like that.

"No!" I scream and throw the phone and that is the last thing I remember before my mind completely takes over and everything around me spins. My head hurts and kills but it feels better when everything goes completely black.

**Author's Note: Hey, so here it is! I'm not sure if you guy's caught on but throughout the story, I was dropping **_**tiny**_** hints that Alexandra has social anxiety and issues. I think I wrote in one chapter that when John yells or gets mad at her, she loses reality and see's another man. **

**Well, if you don't know what I am getting at, just read on and as chapters go on and on, you'll figure it out. **


	16. Chapter 16

I sit on the couch with the waste basket to my face. I don't feel like puking but John insists I keep it there. Normally when these outbreaks happen everything in my stomach spills out but this time it is my head. It kills and then everything around me begins to be the devil. My eyes are puffy and every bone in my body is like ice. John sits next to my rubbing my back.

George had rushed over here as soon I went black. I don't remember. I was too busy being a dehydrated fish. He left shortly after John and Cynthia came home. It was bad this time, real bad. I never threw anything during one of my fits. This time, a phone. I smashed it right against the white wall making it break into little pieces. There's even a black mark on the wall where it hit.

"It's okay, Love," John whispers, rubbing my back a little more before placing a kiss on my forehead. "Hmm, okay, love?"

"Mm," I respond. Right now the clock reads half past eleven. I'm usually in bed sleeping like a newborn baby. Cynthia sighs.

"John, if this keeps happening, we're going to have to bring her somewhere," she says. I don't like the sound of that. I do not like it at all. A thump thunders the floor and I glare at her but not in the threatening way but scared. Where?

"Where is that?" I ask with a stutter and John hugs me, embracing me with love and comfort.

"Cynthia, we aren't bringing her anywhere!" John states. "We are not taking you anywhere."

"John, they could help her!"

"What? Put her in a locked white walled room? Yeah?" He says back to her with warning in his eyes. "It isn't happening, do you hear me? She is staying home and we'll get through it!"

I sink into the couch and find myself crawling into a sleepy ball. I hear a car door slam and feet walking on our porch. Ringo said he was going to stop by to see if I am okay. John must have called him a little earlier to say that I had come through. Paul didn't answer at all. Cynthia said she called at least three times but no answer. Our front door opens and John looks back.

"You gonna talk to her?" John asks, bluntly. "I mean, it is you fault! You know we can't do that to her," John says like he wants the whole world to treat me like I am made of porcelain. I can hear him sigh from behind the couch. Maybe his friend came too? I don't want to look at her. Poor Maureen, I think. She is probably home looking at wedding magazines all happy about their engagement.

"I'm sorry, Love," Ringo says, sitting on the arm of the couch. I ignore him. He means nothing at the moment.

Another thing these meltdowns do is make me grumpy and miserable. I am never like that. It's the voice. It makes me scared. John doesn't know about the voices or the pictures. He thinks I just have meltdowns and black out. Little do they know that I see flames and other horrible things that I hate to look at.

He rubs my leg.

"Who was she, Richard?" I ask. I look up to him and he is frowning with guilt. "Next time, I'll tell Mo!"

"Alexandra!" John snaps at me. He shakes his head. "Stay out of it, alright? You alright now? Forgive him and go to bed!" I do as I am told even though I still have the urge to tell Maureen right in front of everyone. I bet Paul cheated too. I hate the thought of that.

"Fine, I forgive you Ringo," I tell him before slowly walking up the stairs. My feet sag and I just feel too out of it. I want to sleep. That is all. Sleep.

_Narrative _

"I can't believe you, Cyn!" John says in yell but still kind of a whisper. He knits his brows. Cynthia sighs looking at her bare feet.

"I wasn't saying a coco house!" She states. "John, she needs help! You have to…you all have to realize something," she says looking at Ringo. "You have to realize that you only know a piece of her! You know her name and whatever the papers say. You don't know what happened for the last fifteen years of her life," Cynthia continues and she is right. John knows it but doesn't want to admit it.

"Cynthia, she's fine. She does well in school and doesn't have many meltdowns-"

"John, do you see it? Do you see it?"

"Ringo, please back me up," John groans but Ringo doesn't answer.

"She gets worse each time! This time, she threw a phone next time she could hurt herself or someone else. If you don't like it, I am getting her-"

"She isn't your kid!"

"Technically she isn't yours either, you still make her call you John!" Cynthia yells, throwing herself off the chair, folding her arms. "What _father _makes their child call them by their first name?" John is silent, biting his nail. "Adopted or not. You still signed those papers. I still don't know what in God's name possessed you to but you did. You signed up for that role and now you play it. If you don't, I will find someone that will." Ringo's pauses and looks up at Cynthia in disbelief.

"Cynthia, you talk like she's a dog. What exactly do you mean by 'find someone that will', don't you care for her?" Ringo frowns. Cynthia nods.

"Of course," she says. "Why do you think I want to get her help?"

"Fine, we go to a therapist. All of us, even you," John turns to Ringo. "George and Paul, they're coming too!" John reaches for the other phone and dials harshly. "George, you be at my house at eight. I swear, if you are one fucking minute late I will kick you," he says. "Never mind why, we have an appointment! No, not with-George, no, George! We have to go to-we have to-no, George, we aren't getting our hair cut!" John says frustrated, rubbing his temple. "George, when did we ever go to the dentist together? We have to do something with Alexandra, okay?" He rolls his eyes, hanging up.

He dials again.

"If he doesn't answer I will shove this phone so far-Paul!" He greets in relief. "You have to come here at eight in the morning," he tells Paul with a stern voice. Before Paul could question, John hangs up. "Are you happy?" He looks at Cynthia. Cynthia shakes her head.

"John, how do you expect us to get an appointment?"

"I'm fucking John Winston Lennon, that's why," he says, walking up the stairs. "Night."

The next morning everyone was shoved into one car; Alexandra uncomfortably in the middle of Ringo and George. Cynthia and John sat in the front while Paul squeezed between the door and George. It was awkward silence.

"I am feeling confused, John," George says looking at Alexandra. "What was so important that we all have to be packed like canned ham?" John doesn't answer. Alexandra rests her head on George shoulder.

"Do you know where we're going, Alie-bean?" Paul looks at her, smiling.

"I'm going where the nutty people go and then they'll lock me up! Cynthia suggested that…," was all she said before closing her eyes. Ringo caresses her cheek.

"That's not what I said!"

"What did you say?" Paul asks. "Where are we going?"

"To therapy as a family…," Ringo says, smirking a little. "We're all gonna learn how to be a family…I think."

"No, it's to help her not go crazy!" Cynthia says, obviously tired.

"Yeah, for I won't kill anyone!" Cynthia shoots her a look.

John pulls into a parking lot, jumping out of the car as does the rest of the crew. George holds Alexandra's hand softly and smiles. He nods.

"I don't really know what we're doing but it's going to be okay," he says, walking with her into a small office building. It smells musty and the old lady at the desk looks at us. She gives a look of surprised. She smiles pointing to a small door on the right.

They walk in sync with one another into a little room. Alexandra glares at the man with big round glasses and slicked back hair. He was scary looking. Him and his writing board and tapping pen. There was only two chairs in the office. Alexandra hurries and takes one. John gives the other to Cynthia and the fab four sit on the floor.

The doctor glares down at them.

"What are you _all _doing in here?" He asks.

"Aren't we going to talk, as a family?"John asks and the Doctor rolls his eyes.

"I'm not a family therapist, I'm an adolescence therapist!" Alexandra fiddles her thumbs feeling her nerves boost.

"But if it makes you feel better," he sighs, looking at George. "Why don't you start first? How exactly do _you _feel this morning?" George raises a brow and looks around, pointing to his chest.

"Me?" The doctor nods and George sighs. "I feel fine like any other morning, got up, ate, and got dressed. Nothing different!"

"You, Mr. Starkey?"

"Fine, just tired, maybe a little stressed from work but nothing major!"

"I'm feeling okay, too," Paul shrugs.

"Good, now you three can leave and," he pauses for a second. The doctor, who Alexandra now knows is Doctor Young form the name on the desk, looks directly at her. "I want to speak to you _alone_."


End file.
